


Grand Gesture

by cometthespacerock



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Albie's band, Getting Together, M/M, loads of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 14:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16578458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cometthespacerock/pseuds/cometthespacerock
Summary: Until Albus could stop subconsciously  intertwining his past with their possible future, Scorpius makes the tough decision to let Albus figure things out on his own.or,Albus' band is tired of his moping and suggest a grand gesture.





	Grand Gesture

**Author's Note:**

> This comes from watching way too many pop punk love scenario music videos. This is what spawned out of what should have been one of my shipmas prompts.
> 
> It's my first time posting fanfiction on here, and the first time in about five years since I've published anything.

Another frustrated sigh left as a string snapped. Albus was frustrated, and nothing was helping. He was this close to removing all the strings from his guitar and throwing the damn thing into the fire.  It felt like nothing he did could fix what he wanted. It’s as if every fight, every argument, always came back to the one thing that he _never_ wanted to remember. He wanted to delete everything from the past year and go forward with life.

He absolutely hated how everything seemed to go to the one relationship he most regretted. He hated every ounce of puppy love he was in, every ounce of admiration he gave the guy. He hated how he clung to every single word, and yet, what he hated most was how his past was infringing on his possible future. His old relationship was putting the biggest strain on perhaps his strongest relationship, and for that, he hated everything about it.

The end of the year had brought out the realization that he’s pretty sure he’s in love with his best friend. He’s pretty sure that he loves everything about Scorpius, even those little tidbits that others could easily find annoying. Scorpius was pure. He was sweet, he was kind, and Albus figures if he was half the person Scorpius was, then he’d turn out alright.

But ever since he and his ex-boyfriend broke up, Scorpius has become more frustrated with him. It’s almost as everything Albus does pisses Scorpius off. Albus had made it known to Scorpius that he didn’t want to go back to his ex. He wanted to move on, find a new love. One that was hopefully the blond who was his best friend. Albus had insisted he was ready to move on, only, subconsciously everything would go back to the one subject Albus never wanted to bring up again.

It had led to a fight towards the end of the year.  Both boys had these lingering feelings for each other. Scorpius wasn’t oblivious to Albus’ feelings for him. However, until Albus could stop subconsciously intertwining the past with their future, Scorpius had to make a tough decision and let Albus sort things out himself. Scorpius had said firmly that when and if Albus came around, he’d be waiting.

“You’re going to ruin your guitar, Albie,” a brunette boy says, taking the wooden instrument from his best friend’s hands. “That’s the third time you snapped a string. Is everything okay?”

“It’s that blond kid,” a boy with shaggy blond hair states. He twirls a drumstick around his fingers. “Albie’s in love with him. Scorp, or whatever the fuck his name is. Albie’s in love with ‘em an’ he won’t give him the time o’day.”

Albus just blinks as the brunette boy puts his hand on his hips. “That true, Al? Are you really in love with Scorpius?”

He doesn’t want to feel guilty about telling the first boy he kissed that he’s in love with his best friend, but he does. He knows their first kiss was when he was nine, but he wants to remain kind to the friend that had reintroduced him to his childhood friends.

 “I don’t know. I mean, yeah, maybe?”

“But you’re fighting. It’s a classic chick flick scenario,” The drummer says as he drops his drumstick. “What you _need_ , Albie, is a grand gesture.”

“Or he could just apologize again,” the other boy retorts back. “Albie and Scorp probably need to just work things out. I’m sure it’ll all happen if it’s meant to be.” He gives an encouraging smile.

“Or, a grand gesture,” the drummer repeats. He makes a loud crash of his symbol. “My sister says those are the most romantic.”

Albus looks between them, then frowns. He gets both sides. If he were to listen to his mother, she would advise him to probably never listen to his drummer friend. Most of his curfew breaks and troublesome antics lately have begun with _Ryan said_ or _Ryan suggested_. It was enough of words for Ginny to know that her youngest son had a troublesome influence that _wasn’t_ one of his family.

The idea of some grand gesture to get Scorpius to agree to finally be his boyfriend was a tempting one. He wanted to have Scorpius to himself, wanted him to be his boyfriend. He wanted Scorpius to have that epic love story he deserved. It was over the top, and Scorpius _deserved_ that.

“Okay,” he says, and his drummer punches the air.

“What you need is a song. It should be some gay sappy thing I’m sure you can write,” he instructs.  “Then we drive to his house, set our shit up and you serenade him. It’s flawless.”

Albus can see plenty of flaws with this plan. The most obvious being that he can’t drive and Scorpius’ house is more wizard based. There’s also the fact that Scorpius doesn’t live _as_ close as his friends do. But, he doesn’t say any of these things and nods along to everything his drummer is saying.

***

He regrets the idea when his other guitarist, Ash, is green, and holding a half empty bag of crisps and a bottle of energy drink. They’re all in Ashton’s older brother’s shitty pickup truck with band equipment in the back. It’s roughly ten-fifteen at night and he still can’t fathom what he agreed to. The only sane one in the group is sitting along, begrudgingly, reading over bass tabs for the new song.

“Where are we setting up, Al?” the drummer asks, as he slams on the breaks. “Holy fuck,” he swears. “Is this his _house_?”

The others stop and stare at the manor. It’s quite large, with many windows and rooms. The front lawn itself is immaculate. Albus just shrugs, unimpressed with his best friend’s house. He’s been there numerous of times, and as he got older, the novelty of the manor had worn off. The insides, however, were still a different story.

“Scor’s room is in the back, I think. Near the gardens. But be careful, his dad might hear—“Albus didn’t want to even _think_ what could happen if Draco used magic on his muggle friends.

“And I thought _your_ house was huge,” Ash comments as he drops a mic stand to the ground. Albus had tried to make sure that everything was operated with batteries. He really didn’t know what else could be done in this scenario.  The song wasn’t supposed to be soft. It wasn’t supposed to be a sappy ballad on his acoustic. No, it was a power ballad with heavy chords. It was everything he _needed_ to go well. If the speakers didn’t work because of being muggle—he just hoped everything was on his side.  Ryan had sworn it would work. Albus just prayed that it would.

“Liquid courage, Mate?” Albus looks over at the boy beside him. The spunky guitar player had always been closer to the drummer than himself. However, he made it known that he was on Albus’ side that night. Holding the neck of the bottle out, he offers Albus the encouragement.

Albus takes the bottle and takes a large swig. It doesn’t taste like the good stuff Ryan has stolen from his parent’s liquor cupboard. It tastes more like the cheap shit Ashton stole from his brother in the muggle university.

“Just breathe Albie,” Dylan encourages him, as Ryan tosses him a rock. Albus misses the catch as his sweaty palms drop the pebble.

Ryan snorts. “Gods, you are _such_ a ponce,” he teases.

Albus ignores his drummer as he retrieves the pebble again. He then chucks it at the window of his best friend to garner his attention. From there, he nervously grips the neck of his guitar and swallows. This is probably the biggest performance of his life so far. He isn’t the one for stage fright with his band, but for Scorpius, everything seems on the line. If it didn’t work, Albus didn’t think he could survive another year.

“Scorpius,” he says into the microphone. The sound starts to echo and Albus pauses, hoping that no magic disturbs the muggle items. His heart pounds as he sees shadows in the window of Scorpius’ room. The shadows move closer to the window and Albus chokes the mic and repeats his words. “Scorpius.”

The shadow finally moves the curtains open and before he knows what to process, Ryan’s counting out beats and Albus’ fingers make their way down the neck. Words fall out his mouth in ways he didn’t think he could perform.

His energy rises as he performs Scorpius’ song. His voice becomes stronger and the noises louder. His band are backing him up, and there’s no stupid shenanigans.  Albus closes his eyes and doesn’t have to force anymore feeling into the song. When he opens them, he can see Scorpius standing by his window, arm resting on the ledge as he watches.

“Scorpius,” Albus repeats, once his song dies down. The boy is clapping and smiling, and he runs down the stairs before Albus can continue his thoughts. He appears out the door and on the lawn. Albus would expect for him to be mad. After all, his father is probably sleeping at his house. But Scorpius doesn’t seem to take any notice of that.

“Albus,” he exclaims. “Wow!” He just looks at everyone, then at Albus. “Is this—did you write that _for me?”_

“Uh huh,” Albus mumbles, going to nervously place his thumb nail to his mouth.

“The constellations and the sky and the train _and-“_ Scorpius laughs. He just smiles at Albus and laughs. “You wrote a song. You wrote me a _song_ , just to say you’re sorry?”

“Uh huh,” Albus repeats, nodding his head and sucking on his thumb nail.

“You’re just— _wow_.” Scorpius breathes.

“Are you guys gonna fuckin’ snog or what?” Scorpius gives a curious glance over at the three boys watching. Albus turns pink.

“It was their idea I get off my arse and do something to y’know, wow you an’ stuff.”

“He was a rather mopey shit about your argument. So you gonna fucking snog or what?”

Scorpius smiles and pulls Albus close to him, going to lock lips with his best friend.

The three watching cheer as the two pull away. “So, are we dating? Albus asks his best friend with a curious glance.

“What do you think?” Scorpius whispers to him, going to lock lips with Albus once again. He hurriedly breaks apart when he notices a light turn on. “Shit. Dad’s awake. I’ll—I’ll—I’ll write soon,” he whispers in Albus’ ear. “ _Boyfriend_.”  Scorpius lets out a giggle, and Albus can’t help but mimic the sound.

As soon as Scorpius scurries back into the house, the band look back at Albus.

“Mission Accomplished. Next, getting laid.”

Albus should let out a groan, but he doesn’t.


End file.
